


Trick Up His Sleeve

by anhedonic



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Demon AU, Gen, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Mentions, but if you wanted to read it that way you could, cult mentions, demon contracting, demon!chrollo, magician!hisoka, mild depictions of violence, not explicitly HisoKuro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anhedonic/pseuds/anhedonic
Summary: Headaches were not supposed to be common occurrences for demons, but this contractee was making history with his knack for creating them.Chrollo was also not prepared to be caught up in a so-called "witch hunt."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulXIII](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulXIII/gifts).



> I only did some basic research for this, so sorry to anyone who's really into demonology.
> 
> This was written for my friend Seth, because he's 100% the bestiest and I finally wrote one chapter of the thing I've been promising for like two months.

“For my final trick of the night, I have a special treat for everyone.  ♥ ”

It was almost comical, the way the crowd ate it up. Something about Hisoka stunned those who watched him from afar, but made anyone nearby cringe. He really had his work cut out for him with this one. It had only been a month, and he could already feel his everlasting patience wearing thin.

There was a stinging sensation behind his eyes – part of the contract devised by his irritating contractee – that signalled he ought to pay attention and do his part now. He sighed, it was barely necessary. He could do simple parlor tricks like this in his sleep. He could definitely do without Hisoka’s insistent reminders of when he needed his help.

Hisoka’s cards lifted from his hands in the shape of a diamond, then a heart, a clover, a spade, before the cards flew out into the audience, nearly grazing some individuals. It was a diversion tactic, used to distract everyone from the stitches slowly coming apart at the seams of Hisoka’s forearm. He had done the entire show with his arm only temporarily attached using demon magic. He could have severed his arm while he was on stage, but it would have taken a little more concentration, and there was always the chance that Hisoka would not notice the exact moment he’d decide to do it. They had this all planned out, after all, and as much of a nuisance as Hisoka was, they had a deal: Make his shows as breathtaking and flawless as possible, and his soul was Chrollo’s for the taking.

The cards made their way back to the stage, all stabbing just around Hisoka to build up the suspense and excitement before one “missed,” and sliced through Hisoka’s already detached arm. The blood spattered from the wound, while Hisoka caught the arm in his good hand and began nonchalantly tossing it in the air, switching between tosses and orchestrating the chaos of cards surrounding him. He had a calm air, but there was a degree of madness in his eyes. He seemed to ignore the shocked gasps of the audience, impervious to the disgust evident on each disposition. He had a flare for the grotesque, so Chrollo vaguely wondered why anyone was so surprised – Hisoka usually incorporated some degree of gore into his performances. Granted, never to this degree. He was growing bolder with each show now that he had a demon to do most of the work for him.

Hisoka held the dead arm like a conductor’s baton, orchestrating the cards until they all halted right in front of him, poised and ready to strike straight through his body – which is exactly what each one did. It was another diversion tactic. A pink, rubbery substance that would be invisible to anyone not paying close enough attention attached to both ends of his arm and reattached itself behind his back. It was barely noticeable through the flurry of cards striking Hisoka’s neck, cheek, face, and thighs.

As the blood spattered around him, Hisoka licked some from his cheek, retracting his arm from behind his back in order to pluck a card from his neck. He placed the card face down in his palm and held his hand out, waiting as all the other cards dislodged from his person and joined the first card to make the full deck.

It took a moment through the shock, and the seconds ticked on as the audience pieced together: 1. Hisoka’s unphased state, 2. His bloodied form, and 3. His perfectly in-tact arm. The moment it all clicked, the crowd went wild, cheering despite their disgust with Hisoka’s gory image. Hisoka smirked, placing one heeled foot behind the other, bending at the waist, and extending his arms in some odd combination of a curtsey and a bow. His flamboyance was another trait that seemed enticing from afar, but obnoxious when you had to deal with it first-hand.

Chrollo kept his eyes down on his book as Hisoka exited the stage, regardless of how difficult it was to not be distracted from the bright orange and purple in his periphery. When he refused to look up at Hisoka, his head twinged again, and he sighed. It was only a minor nuisance, but he would have rejected that part of the contract had he known about Hisoka’s desperate and nearly constant need for his attention. Headaches were not supposed to be common occurrences for demons, but this contractee was making history with his knack for creating them.

“Chrollo, look at me. You have something to fix, you know.  ♥” He whined, waving around the arm so that it wobbled around the torn edges. If he had the common sense to be gentle with it, it could have held up better; but this was Hisoka, he had to remind himself. Common sense was lost on him.

“Perhaps it would do you well to not talk to me in public. Although, everyone already thinks you’re crazy, so perhaps it wouldn’t make a difference…” He sighed, shutting his book and turning on his heel to walk off to Hisoka’s dressing room without a glance backward. Hisoka would follow – he’d follow him anywhere. It was odd for a contractee to be so endlessly obsessed with their demon. Intrigue was common, as were fear and wariness. Some contractees even became so lonely in their decision that they sought after some form of intimate relationship with their contractor, but Hisoka’s obsession was an anomaly. He seemed to want nothing from Chrollo except for what their contract entailed, but still desperately sought after his attention until Chrollo deigned him with it, and then grew bored once he attained it. He seemed to enjoy games of cat and mouse, Chrollo eventually concluded. It was just fine by him, anyway – ignoring Hisoka was preferable, and Hisoka seemed to enjoy it more than the few occasions Chrollo attempted to just get it over with by giving Hisoka what he believed he wanted. It would be easier without the pain in his head, but it was just a temporary side-effect.

Hisoka lounged across the couch, taking up all the space just so he could watch Chrollo drag another chair across the room. It was easier than expending demon magic to make it come on its own, and reattaching Hisoka’s arm and body to the point that he would be pleased with it would take enough energy that he didn’t see the need in using it on things he could do manually. Hisoka was observant enough to have figured out by now that Chrollo did not believe in needless expenditure of his energy. He was too tired for that.

Chrollo took his seat as Hisoka draped himself dramatically across the chair, his severed arm held out and and wobbling comically in Chrollo’s direction as his other arm flew across his forehead. “Oh, Chrollo, I’m so weak. Care for me. ♥” He sighed, waving his arm until the rubbery substance began drooping between the detached ends.

He was familiar enough with Hisoka’s antics that he ignored him and did what he had to. He began the rather long and tedious process of repairing Hisoka’s body, ignoring the sharp pain in his head as Hisoka tried and failed to get his attention. Whatever he wanted to discuss, it could wait until after he fixed him up. The wounds were bad enough that if he didn’t work quickly, Hisoka would bleed out, and he’d have wasted a month of his time on a soul he couldn’t even have. Sometimes, he wondered if that was why Hisoka was growing so bold with his performances – he either had quite a large amount of trust in Chrollo’s abilities, or he was pushing his luck to see if he would go down with the show of a lifetime, and cheat Chrollo out of his end of the bargain. The latter seemed very likely. Either way, Hisoka very clearly had a severe lack of self-preservation. It would be concerning, if Chrollo actually cared at all.

“What were you reading earlier? ♦” He asked, and Chrollo sighed, deciding that this much of a conversation was less of a hassle than the distraction of the pain shooting past his eyes.

“The Bible. It’s interesting. I’ve been around since Satan was cast from Heaven, and experienced the holy wars, but I never tire of that particular text.” He replied, watching as the black specks of magic swirled over each wound, seeping in and slowly repairing the damage caused by the performance.

“Hm, I’ve never bothered with it. Does it have anything about you? ♠” He sounded less interested now, only keeping up the conversation because he’d finally gotten Chrollo’s attention and was so loathe to give it up.

“A bit. Evidently, I am a Christian demon.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He knew vaguely of other texts that mentioned him in some way, but none of them were accurate. Some claimed that he was a God that Christianity altered for its own benefits, others described him as Satan’s assistant. Regardless, they were mostly wrong. The only accurate information was that he was one of seven princes of Hell, that he currently had reign over the east, and that he was once revered as a Pagan God. He had more followers and those wishing to contract with him at that time, so it was almost pleasant until Christianity spread. Outside of that, it was all information lost in history and a textual war.

“Hmm, fascinating. ♣” Hisoka intoned, and Chrollo rolled his eyes.

“If you were disinterested and unaware of all of this, how did you even find out which demon to contract and how to get to me?” He asked, genuinely curious as to how someone who could barely be bothered to pick up a book even knew about how to contract a low-level demon, nevertheless one of the princes of Hell.

“Motivation is an amazing thing. ♣” He replied lackadaisically, examining his fingernails as he began to lose interest in their conversation.

“I’ve never been called upon by someone who is not a Baalist before.”

“And I’ve never contracted a demon before. Funny, there’s a first time for everything, hm? ♠” He suddenly perked up, though, as a thought occurred to him, and Chrollo found himself holding back a disappointed sigh. He thought he had effectively lost Hisoka’s attention, and that he’d just let him work now. It may have been too much to hope for with Hisoka.

“Come to think of it, why are you called Baal, when I know you as ‘Chrollo’? ♦” He asked, raising a brow.

“You and I both know you didn’t even know my name when you contracted me, so why does it matter?” He sighed, feeling somewhat tired now that all the smaller card wounds were done being patched up, and all that was left was ensuring the functionality of Hisoka’s muscles in his arm.

“It doesn’t. So tell me, anyway. ♥”

Logic failed with Hisoka, so he relented. “Because demons are known to have many names according to languages and religions – it does not mean that any of them are necessarily right or wrong. I am Chrollo because I want to be, and because that has been my name for the longest time. It is what I was called before I came to be what I am, and I don’t see the point in changing it simply because it’s what has been accepted by religions and cults.”

Hisoka hummed, tucking that thought away for another time as he quieted down and let Chrollo continue his work in peace. After that, the finishing touches came along more quickly, and Hisoka began flexing his arm and moving it without much thought for how it could still be injured the second it felt right again. Chrollo didn’t feel the need to warn him to be careful – it was fixed to perfection, after all, and even on the very off chance that something had gone wrong, it would have been Hisoka’s fault for distracting him. He deserved whatever came to him, as far as Chrollo was concerned.

“Ah, good as new. I always love watching you work, Chrollo, and I love the tingling sensation of your magic. You know, it almost feel like sex. ♥” He sighed, rolling his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t know.” He replied, opening his book back up in an effort to let Hisoka know that he was disinterested in further contact.

“Hm, a pity. You know, I could help you with that. ♥” Hisoka walked up behind him, leaning on the back of Chrollo’s chair so their cheeks brushed.

Chrollo trained his eyes on the words before him, not giving Hisoka even a glance as he replied. “I’m not interested, Hisoka. I’m not a sex demon – if that’s what you wanted, you could have contracted an incubus or a succubus.” He flipped the page in his book, focusing on the words rather than Hisoka.

“But that wouldn’t be as fun, or have given me what I need. Besides, Chrollo, you’re exactly my type. I don’t need to contract anything to get laid, but it’s so hard to find anything in this world as enticing as you are. ♥” He sighed, straightening up and making to leave the room. “I’m going back home. You’re free to do whatever you’d like with the rest of your evening, but keep my offer in mind. I expect to see you bright and early. And I do love it when I can feel you wandering through my house at night. That dark energy gives me the most pleasant of chills. ♥”

“I’ll keep that in mind…” He muttered, attempting to forget the words the moment he heard them. He really didn’t care what Hisoka liked or disliked, so long as their contract was fulfilled.


End file.
